


Be there

by OtterAndTerrier



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Learning To Be In A Relationship, Post-Deathly Hallows, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9107500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterAndTerrier/pseuds/OtterAndTerrier
Summary: A few weeks after the battle, Ron and Hermione discuss going to Australia in search of her parents.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for **feminist-bookworm** for the **2016 Romione Secret Santa** on Tumblr, so I'm reposting here now. She said she liked the post-war period, where Ron and Hermione are learning how to be in a relationship together. I had an old-ish WIP story about a topic I wanted to write about set in this timeframe, but the story itself sucked (I think part of me knew it and that's why I never posted it…), so I took the basic plot and about three sentences I liked and re-did it. Many thanks to **jenahid** for beta-reading this, and I hope if you were waiting for more Ron and Hermione from me, you'll enjoy it and maybe leave a little comment :)

Ron opened the door that led off the kitchen and out into the yard, keeping a careful eye on the four mugs of steaming tea he kept levitating in front of him with his wand. Sitting on the floor just outside was only Hermione, her back turned to him, her head tilted upwards as if in contemplation of the evening sky, increasingly appearing peppered with stars.

'Hey,' he said, scanning the yard beyond them. 'Where'd they others go?'

It was nearly summer. Five weeks had gone by since the final battle against Voldemort, the one that had ended the war—and so many innocent lives along with it. To say it had been hard for the Weasleys was an understatement, especially the first week. But after the funeral, after a few days of mourning, of closed doors and muffled sobs, of not quite knowing what to say or do, some of them (and then most of them) became busy, going back to work where there was a work to go back to and lending a hand in the gruelling business of patching up the wizarding world.

Keeping busy helped, at least in Ron's opinion. It gave them something else to focus their thoughts on, it gave them purpose and, at the end of the day, they were too exhausted to do much more than dinner. Afterwards, though, he and Hermione would go on a walk, and it was the best part of the day.

Sometimes they sat with Harry and Ginny instead, like tonight… except his best friend and his sister were currently nowhere in sight.

'They went for a walk,' Hermione said, looking over her shoulder up at him. Her lips were slightly pursed in an effort not to smile at the scowl that had automatically formed in Ron's face. 'Seriously, Ron, you have to get over it. Your face is cute but the sentiment behind it isn't.'

'I—you—did you just say my face was cute?' Ron stuttered, feeling his face grow warm.

'Er… yes? I think…' Hermione said, looking down sheepishly and pushing a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. 'You brought some tea?'

'Yeah,' Ron said, not bothering to hide the big grin that was now spreading through his face, all thoughts of Harry and Ginny pushed out of his mind. 'Here.' He handed her one of the mugs, the least chipped one, grabbed one for himself, and levitated the other two down to the floor against the door, hoping to remember to pick them up later. Then, he sat down next to Hermione.

In the dim light of the porch, he hadn't seen much beyond Hermione's face. Now, as his arm brushed with hers and felt it woolly—where he clearly remembered her having her arms bare before—Ron got a better look at the rest of her.

And he kept staring, open-mouthed, with a mix of amazement and unreality, at Hermione Granger, _his_ _girlfriend_ , wearing what he was one-hundred percent sure was _his jumper_.

Hermione followed the direction of his eyes and said, 'Oh.' She tugged at the fabric, blushing deeply in self-consciousness. 'Sorry. It was sort of—lying there and I—and I was a bit chilly.'

'No, it's okay!' Ron hurried to add, afraid she had misunderstood his reaction. 'You can—I mean, keep it. Absolutely. It—it looks good on you.'

He got an arched eyebrow in response. 'It looks gigantic on me.'

'Well,' Ron stared, growing ever redder, 'it looks gigantic on everyone, even me… it doesn't really look good on anyone, but… um, somehow it… it does look good on you.'

Hermione smiled at him before turning her attention to her mug, head bent over it. 'Thanks.'

She let the minutes pass in silence, both companionably drinking their tea, but inside Hermione was trying to come up with the best way of saying what she needed to tell Ron—what she needed to do. She had a feeling he wasn't going to take it very well.

'So…' she started, not quite looking at him yet, but at the reflection of the moon on the pond. 'I talked to your dad and Percy yesterday about—about my parents. I told them what I'd done.'

Ron stared at her with surprise. 'Yeah? What did they say?'

She gave him a one-shouldered shrug. 'They listened to me, mostly. They—I think they understood. And I told them I needed to bring them back, so I wanted to know if it was possible for anyone to leave the country yet, and if they could help me get permission for a Portkey—'

'Why didn't you tell me?' Ron asked suddenly. Hermione turned to look at him in spite of herself, and met with a confused frown.

'Well, it was only yesterday—'

'I saw you yesterday.'

It would have been hard not to, since Hermione and Harry were both staying at the Burrow, but a week after the battle, Hermione had decided to check on her childhood home and had been regularly going during the day to clean and repair any damage, in preparation for the (she hoped) eventual return of her family. Yesterday, taking advantage of Harry and Ron being occupied elsewhere, she'd spent most of the day there after she'd talked to Arthur and Percy.

'I know. I needed some time to think,' she answered calmly.

Hermione _always_ needed to think. It still didn't explain to Ron why she hadn't told him when they'd seen each other the night before, so he asked, 'About what?'

'Everything—how I'll get there, what I'll say to them, whether I'll be able to—' her voice broke and she swallowed, '—to undo the spell.'

Ron left his half-drank tea to the side at once and wrapped an arm around Hermione, giving her a reassuring squeeze. ''Course you will. And your parents… they'll understand, when you tell them why you did it. Maybe they won't even be mad,' he added, although he very much doubted that when he tried to imagine how his parents would react if he ever modified their memories and shipped them to the other side of the world. But he knew that, as much as they would yell at him, they would still love him at the end of the day.

'They can't be mad when you tell them why you did it. I'll tell them, if they don't believe you,' he offered bravely. 'When we go.'

Hermione gave him the beginnings of a smile before her expression darkened with a sad frown. 'Ron, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. There's another thing I've been thinking about and—I know you and Harry have said you'd go with me, but,' she took a deep breath and looked away, 'I've decided I'm going alone.'

For a moment, Ron stood gaping slightly at her, dumbfounded. He pictured Hermione alone in a vast nothingness, looking lost and scared… No, it was a ridiculous thought. She probably meant something else.

'What d'you mean?'

Hermione blinked, mirroring his confusion. 'I meant what I just said. That I'm going to Australia alone, Ron.'

'Why?'

'Well, I—to be honest, I don't know how long it'll take me to find them, to begin with. They might not be where I sent them anymore. They might not even be in Australia anymore for all I know.' Hermione felt her throat close up again.

'Yeah, so?'

' _So_ , I can't ask you to leave your family right now for something that might end up being a wild-goose chase!' Hermione exclaimed, a little annoyed at what she thought was Ron being purposefully thick—although her annoyance was, mostly, deflected sadness.

'Don't talk like that, Hermione, you'll find them,' Ron stated in a stern tone, but Hermione shook her head, stubborn.

'You don't know that! And I can't drag you with me all the way to Australia based on that assumption!'

'You're not dragging me, I offered to go!'

'It's an expression.'

'A really rubbish expression,' Ron said grumpily. 'Anyway, I dunno what my family's got to do with any of this.'

'Well, how do you think your mother is going to react when you tell her you're going away again?' Hermione asked him, turning sideways to better look at him and bumping their knees together in the process.

Ron hadn't thought about it, but he knew the answer to that question would probably confirm Hermione's concerns. Even so, he brushed them off for the moment. 'I don't know; why do you care?'

'Because I wouldn't want to cause her any more distress! Your family needs to stick together. You need to be with them, and I need to go be with mine.'

Ron scoffed and got up, his tea forgotten, to walk away from Hermione. That wasn't how she'd hoped the conversation would go, but it certainly wasn't going to be how it would end, so Hermione stood up as well and followed him.

'What are you doing?' she demanded, trying to catch up with him.

'What does it look like?'

Now it was her turn to huff. 'I mean—Ron, stop!' she reached out to grab hold of his arm and dug her heels into the ground to make him stop. When he did, the inertia made her fall forwards and bump into him, then backwards again—before she could stumble, Ron caught her by her arms and set her steady on her feet. He was so caught up in the moment that he forgot to appear mad, looking a mix of worried and amused instead with his eyebrows high on his forehead and his mouth twitching.

Hermione didn't lose another second. 'You're the one person who doesn't back down and leave me talking to myself! Why are you doing it now?'

The question caught him by surprise. 'I didn't want to fight.'

'And you think not talking is a better alternative?'

Ron shrugged. The truth was, they hadn't fought since they'd got together, after the battle. Not _really_ fought at least—they had bickered about trivial things, like whether Quidditch was more dangerous than Muggle football, or how much chocolate was too much chocolate. It still drove Harry crazy, but unlike their old school days, they didn't spend hours hissing and rolling their eyes at each other anymore. Their bickering now usually ended with a knowing look and some snickering… and it ensured a snogging session afterwards.

This was different, though. It was gearing up to a real fight, and Ron wasn't sure if they were ready for that. When he really thought about it, he couldn't believe he and Hermione were together, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would take to break them. He didn't want to be responsible for that.

'Well, it's not,' Hermione said, looking earnestly up at him. 'I'd rather you say what's on your mind.'

'You do?' To Ron, that was the last thing anyone should want from him, as he often did say the first thing to cross his mind, and it wasn't always the smartest thing he did.

'Of course!'

'Fine, then. I think it's stupid that you want to go alone.'

'Ron, listen—'

'No, you listen,' Ron said, taking a step closer and scowling. 'It's bloody stupid. Everyone knows who we are and Death Eaters are running off, and you wanna go to a country you don't even know all by yourself?'

Hermione chewed on her lip, but held his angry gaze. 'They won't know I'm going. I'll take security measures, obviously. I could even take Polyjuice, or transfigure myself.'

'Yeah, but you'll still be alone!' Ron said, gesturing at nothing in particular in frustration.

'I know,' Hermione said softly, looking down.

'So is that really what you want?' Ron asked, trying to take the edge off his voice. 'Look, if you want to go alone, then…' He shrugged, let out a resigned sigh, and ran a hand through his hair. 'But if you're only saying it because you think I need to stay with my family, then you don't know what I need.'

It was hard to keep herself from smiling when she understood what Ron's last words implied, and Hermione was mollified by them.

'Are you sure, Ron? You really want to come with me?' she asked, searching his face.

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Isn't that what I've been saying?' Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand. He looked sheepish now as he said, 'I'm sure you won't need my help there. You'll probably figure everything out by yourself, like you always do, and I'll try not to get in the way. But even if I can't be of any help, I just want to be there. Make sure you're all right. I'm going with you.'

'Okay. That's settled, then,' Hermione said softly. Ron raised a dubious eyebrow at her.

'We're not fighting anymore? You're done coming up with excuses?'

'I think so.' He put his arms around her and she leaned against him, letting out a long breath. She pulled back to look up at him and, rising on her toes, kissed him briefly on the lips. 'Thanks, Ron.'

Ron grinned at her; then the corners of his mouth turned down and he said, 'Oh no… now we've got to tell Mum.'


End file.
